


The Crystals of Amalus

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aliens Made Them Cuddle, M/M, Magic Crystal Problems, Princess Keith, Touch-Starved Shiro (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 13:16:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15607107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: At this point in his life Keith had started zoning out whenever someone said ‘crystal’.





	The Crystals of Amalus

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [The Crystals of Amalus](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15949208) by [akino_ame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akino_ame/pseuds/akino_ame), [Rin_ne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rin_ne/pseuds/Rin_ne)



At this point in his life Keith had started zoning out whenever someone said ‘crystal’. If you checked out for five minutes exactly while Coran explained whatever-it-was and Hunk and Pidge made excited noises, you could start paying attention again right at the moment when Coran announced which giant space monster they were going to have to fight for it. He leaned against his chair with his serious face on and thought about nothing much. He kept an eye on Shiro, of course. If there was something important for Keith to know in this five minutes of technobabble, he’d know from Shiro’s reaction to it.

Shiro was just nodding thoughtfully, which was his version of checked-out serious face, so it was all fine. Keith didn’t realise anything was weird until after he started paying attention again right as Coran said, “- the Amalusian Behemoth, a creature of extraordinary mystery and gentleness!”

“Gentleness?” said Keith. “Does that mean it  _doesn’t_ shoot surprise giant lasers?”

“That would be good, no surprise lasers would be good,” said Hunk.

Coran looked hurt. “If you’d watched my instructional video properly it wouldn’t have been a surprise.”

“Your instructional video was ten thousand years old, Coran,” Keith said. “Let’s do the briefing face to face this time.” He resisted the part of him that wanted to glance at Shiro for approval before he said, “Talk us through it.”

It was weird, but getting Shiro back had done more for Keith’s sense of how much he needed to step up to the leader thing than losing him. Losing him just hadn’t felt real. Having him here, though, and  _knowing_ just how worn down and hurt he’d been after everything he’d been through – well, it made Keith want to run off and fight something. But since running off and fighting something wouldn’t help Shiro, Keith did what  _would_ , which was taking some of the load of defending the universe off his shoulders where people kept trying to dump it.

It meant being the person who told Coran when to focus, and getting on an even enough keel with Lance that he could be the guy who told Lance when to knock it off. It meant playing the dumb pretending-to-be-a-wizard game on a team with Pidge and Hunk and Allura, and turning up to every breakfast and dinner so the others could always find him instead of skipping to do combat training and eating a snack in his room later. It meant actually thinking through what the whole team needed, not just in battle but  _all the time_. It was both crazy stressful and extremely boring, but Keith would do it if it meant Shiro didn’t have to.

It meant that when Coran explained what this Amalusian Behemoth actually wanted them to do in exchange for one of its vitally important crystal whiskers, Keith did not yell  _what no way!_ the way he immediately wanted to, because that wasn’t the leader thing to do.

Lance yelled it for him.

“Okay,” said Keith after a moment. “Maybe we should talk to these guys first. There’s got to be another way.”

 

“Your information was misleading. We do often have to explain this to lesser species,” said the high priest of Amalus they ended up consulting. Amalusians appeared to be mostly made of plants and smugness. Keith in leaderly fashion did not roll his eyes, and elbowed Allura to remind her not to lose her temper. “The Holy Behemoth does not require you to perform any of your fleshy mating rituals.” Rather apologetically it added, “It finds that sort of thing pretty gross!”

“Okay,” said Keith. He didn’t glance at Shiro for approval. He was doing this. “Tell us what the, uh, Holy Behemoth,”  _did that sound sarcastic?_ “does require, then.”  _Nailed it._

“Loving affection,” said the high priest, “expressed in physical realm.”

Everyone avoided each other’s eyes. Hunk coughed.

“You must show the Holy One the strength of the bond between you!” added the priest encouragingly.

Keith thought about it. “Couldn’t we just form Voltron?”

“That’s… not a bad idea,” said Pidge. “Voltron is all  _about_ the bond between us. And it’s pretty physical.”

“Forgive me,” said the plant priest, “but I had heard the Paladins of Voltron were five in number. In fact,” it reached into its pocket and pulled out a large glossy photograph, “is this not you? Hunk, Pidge, Lance, Shiro,” it pointed to each of them, paused in confusion, moved its hand over to Allura, and finished, “Keith.”

Keith and Allura exchanged involuntary glances. “This  _again?_ ” Keith muttered.

“In fact,” said the priest, “I’m not really sure who you are.”

“Oh, he’s Princess Allura,” said Lance before Keith could explain. Keith glared at him. Lance grinned and just kept going, “you probably remember the understudy from the stage show, right? We save him from monsters! And from getting kidnapped, falling off things, being eaten by crazy huge alien bears, a shark tank one time -”

“ _That plotline never quite came together,”_ said Coran over the comm.

“Why did he not play his own role?” asked the priest.

“Oh, he wouldn’t perform unless we got everything on his rider. Just between you and me, he’s  _really_  high maintenance that way.”

“Lance,” growled Keith. It didn’t help that the others were all snickering. Even Shiro was obviously trying not to laugh.

The priest looked up at him again with an amazed air. “Forgive me, princess, for not recognising you. You are even more beautiful than the stories say.”

Lance’s mouth dropped open and then he made a faint wheezing noise. Pidge was actually clutching her sides. Keith ignored them and decided to go with it. Explaining would take way longer than they had anyway. “Thanks,” he said. “You were going to tell us why the Holy Behemoth won’t accept Voltron as evidence of our bond?”

“Well, it’s simply that there are six of you,” said the priest. “You must  _all_ express your bond, your highness.”

Shiro said, “I’ll go back to the Castle, then. The rest of you can form Voltron.”

“That will not serve,” said the priest sternly. “The Behemoth has felt the presence of you all. For one to depart now would be proof of a flawed bond. It will never offer a crystal to you after that.”

“Well, what  _are_ we supposed to do?” said Keith.

 

“Sooooo,” said Pidge, “cuddling.”

“This is not the weirdest thing I have had to do for a magic space crystal,” said Hunk.

“It’s not cuddling, Pidge,” said Keith. “We just all have to be touching.”

They’d been conducted to a ‘holy place’, which was a clearing in the scarlet Amalusian forest with a bunch of shacks tucked under the trees nearby. The Behemoth, apparently, was underground. Technically the thing about touching wasn’t even all of them. The way the priest had explained it, five out of six of them had to be in physical contact with at least one of the others at all times for a full Amalusian night and day – about eighteen vargas. When Pidge asked why only five the priest just blinked at her and said,  _it’s a test of your bond, not your bladder, young Paladin!_

Currently Keith was holding hands with Shiro on one side and Allura on the other. Lance had Allura’s other hand, and was holding it like it was the most precious and delicate thing that had ever been handed to him. Pidge had her feet in Lance’s lap, and her head in Hunk’s, and Hunk completed the circle with his hand on Shiro’s back.

“Sure, it’s not cuddling  _now_ ,” said Pidge. “But eighteen vargas is a long time. Eventually we’re going to have to sleep, and we need to keep in physical contact with at least one other person while we do. So.” She adjusted her glasses. “Cuddling.” She added with a smirk, “I call Hunk, he gives the best hugs.”

“Aw, Pidge,” said Hunk, and gathered her up in a big squeezing embrace that made her yell and accidentally kick Lance in the chin.

Lance barely even seemed to notice, because he’d suddenly twisted around to stare at Allura with an expression of mingled longing and terror. He had to clear his throat several times before he said, “Well, if we  _have_ to –”

He was obviously about to embarrass himself. Keith took pity on him. “Allura, pick your partner.”

“Oh, I think Lance,” said Allura. “As long as you don’t mind that I prefer to be the big spoon,” she added, giving Lance an earnest look.

Lance’s mouth worked, and he stared around the circle for help, and then when no one gave him any he managed several tiny but emphatic nods. Allura looked amused. Sometimes Keith remembered that in another reality Allura had apparently done just fine at being an evil empress. She had the wicked streak down.

“Guess that leaves you and me, Shiro,” he said.

“I guess it does,” Shiro said. He let go of Keith’s hand and clapped him on the shoulder companionably instead. Keith resisted the urge to put his own hand up there and cover Shiro’s, which would have been not so companionable. Following your instincts wasn’t what it meant to be the leader, and Keith had been squashing that one down for a long time anyway.

Instead he thought about what Shiro would say in this situation, and reminded the rest of them, “Remember, everyone, it’s five out of six. So if anyone doesn’t feel comfortable, or needs a break, that’s fine. Just make sure your partner knows so they can switch to someone else.”

Shiro’s grip on his shoulder tightened approvingly. That was all Keith wanted.

 

They spent most of the next ten vargas playing traditional Altean clapping games that Allura taught them. They sat with their legs together so they wouldn’t accidentally break the Behemoth’s rules while they clapped rhythms at each other, and it was fine. Coran got really into it over the comm and shouted advice that just confused everyone. It was stupid, but also kind of nice, to just be spending time with them all. The lions were close by so if there was a problem that needed Voltron they could just  _go_ , and meanwhile Keith knew where everyone was and no one really needed any leader-ing done and Shiro was having a good time. Shiro always got way more into team time than Keith did. He actually liked the dumb wizard game.

Keith was having a good time too, though. He was beating everyone but Allura at the clapping thing, and he kept seeing Shiro’s smile out of the corner of his eye.

“I think some of this is endorphins,” commented Pidge. “Human mood and general wellbeing can get meaningful boosts from even minor physical contact.”

“We should have more team sleepovers,” said Lance. “For our wellbeing!” He was in a bouncy mood from so much time spent with his leg pressed to Allura’s. Keith was probably in a pretty good mood himself because he wasn’t even finding it annoying.

Eventually the game came down to a savage series of clap-cross-return rhythms between Keith and Allura, and Allura annihilated him and then looked pleased with herself. “I was very good at that in school,” she said. “I haven’t played in years.”

“You’re gonna have to get better if you want to be Princess Allura in the show, Keith!” said Pidge.

“I thought for the show I just have to scream and be beautiful until Shiro throws me over his shoulder,” said Keith. “I can do that.”

“You also have to wear the dress,” Allura said. She smiled impishly. “But I have a spare.”

Keith shrugged. “Works for me.”

Then they were all laughing, even Coran over the comm, and yeah, okay, this was a good time. Maybe Keith was kind of into team time, sometimes. Shiro was still next to him – their calves were touching – and after a moment he put his hand back on Keith’s shoulder. Keith leaned into his side. They had to do it anyway for the Behemoth, so why not?

 

Pairing off to sleep-cuddle could have been awkward, but wasn’t. By unspoken agreement they all stayed close together. Hunk sprawled out on his back while Pidge basically used him as a mattress. Allura spooned Lance just like she’d threatened, which Keith and Shiro exchanged a glance over briefly but then Allura said, laughing, “Relax, Lance,” and Lance answered in a dazed happy voice, “Whatever you say,” and yeah, they were fine.

Keith lay down next to Shiro. He had Shiro’s hand back in his, fingers loosely locked between their faces. Shiro’s bangs were in his eyes a little. Keith said, low, “Okay?”

“Yeah, Keith,” said Shiro. His mouth quirked a little, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I probably shouldn’t have been here in the first place. It would be a lot easier to just form Voltron.”

Keith frowned. “Don’t say that.” He didn’t like that smile on Shiro’s face. It was a shock – it was always a shock – when Shiro needed Keith to do the leader thing, not just for the others but for himself. But Keith thought maybe this was one of those times. He tried to think of what Shiro would say, but that was no help because Shiro was always way harder on himself than he was on anyone else. There was nothing but what Keith had to say. He went ahead and said it. “You belong here,” he said. “You’re part of this team. We need you, Shiro.” He went for honesty because he didn’t know what else he was supposed to do. “I need you,” he said.

Shiro said, “Thanks, Keith.”

The smile was real now, but Keith felt frustrated because he still hadn’t quite got it across, he knew he hadn’t. He squeezed Shiro’s hand a little tighter. “If you weren’t here it wouldn’t be the real thing,” he tried to explain. “The bond, the team, any of it. It wouldn’t matter.”

Shiro squeezed his hand back. “Thanks,” he said again, more quietly.

“Hey, can you guys stop whispering?” said Hunk over to their left. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”

 

Keith wasn’t expecting to fall asleep easily, but actually with the sound of everyone’s breathing around him and Shiro’s hand in his it wasn’t difficult at all. He was out like a light.

He woke up some time later because Shiro was nudging him sideways so that his free hand ended up somewhere around Lance’s elbow. Five of the six, right. When Keith was safely in position Shiro untangled himself from their little knot of bodies and stood up and walked away.

Keith had learned the trick of going from dead to the world to wide-awake in a motionless invisible instant from his time in the Blades, but he didn’t say anything, just blinked a couple of times in the dimness of the Amalusian night. He expected Shiro to head for the little shack that was this holy spot’s one public bathroom, but he didn’t, just walked a little way into the dark and stood there. Keith watched him. He’d always had pretty good night vision: since he’d found out about his mom that had made a lot more sense. The colour was washed out of the world, but he could see the dark shape of Shiro’s back and shoulders against the night, the pale crown of his hair.

Behind him Lance snuffled and murmured something in his sleep, and Allura snored small ladylike snores. Keith couldn’t move. He couldn’t get up and walk over to Shiro without blowing the whole damn reason they were here, eighteen vargas demonstrating their team’s  _bond_ for the benefit of a nosy giant alien monster. He could see the tight unhappy way Shiro was holding himself. He couldn’t even call out Shiro’s  _name_ without waking Lance and Allura, and Keith knew Shiro wouldn’t want the others to see whatever this was. He hadn’t even wanted Keith to see it.

He waited.

Eventually Shiro came back. He lay down in more or less the spot he’d started in and reached out and rested his hand on Keith’s arm again. Keith guessed he was thinking about the mission: what if someone else needed to get up?

Keith said as softly as he could, “Shiro.”

“Sorry,” Shiro murmured. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

Keith rolled away from the huddle of Lance and Allura and linked their hands again. “Are you okay?” he said.

“I’ll be fine.”

Right, so that was  _no_. “What can I do?” Keith said. He was watching Shiro’s face. He was so focused that after a moment the monochrome of the night shifted and acquired red and violet edges. He could pick out the hint of deep brown in the black of Shiro’s eyes, and his white hair where it fell across his face was almost luminous. It would be nice if Keith could  _control_ the moments when his Galra side kicked in.

Shiro didn’t comment on whatever Keith’s eyes were doing, though even by starlight it had to be noticeable when it went on this long. His gaze was angled away. He was looking at their joined hands. Keith looked too. Shiro’s hand was bigger than his, but not that much. Keith had a bunch of scrapes around his knuckles he’d picked up somewhere.

“It’s just a lot, sometimes,” Shiro said at length. “Being here.”

Keith looked at his face again. His eyes were closed now. The way he’d said  _being here_ , he hadn’t meant the forests of Amalus.

“What was it like?” he said. “In the Black Lion.”

Shiro didn’t answer for a long time. Just when Keith was starting to get worried, he opened his eyes and smiled a little and said, “Well, you know Black.”

 _Loving. Deadly. Strong._ Yeah, Keith knew Black. He loved Black, even. But being trapped in the lion’s consciousness, with no way out, all alone,  _all the time_  – his fingers tightened on Shiro’s hand.

“It wasn’t so bad,” Shiro murmured. “Not a bad way to spend an afterlife, really. I don’t think I expected to get one.” He was looking at their hands again now. His thumb was moving slowly back and forth over a red scrape on Keith’s pointer finger. It hurt a little, actually, but Keith didn’t pull away. Shiro said, “It got a little lonely sometimes. And I missed – ”

Keith hissed in pain when Shiro absently pressed the pad of his thumb to the scrape. Shiro immediately looked horrified and tried to pull away.

Keith moved on instinct, rolling all the way over and getting an arm over him, pulling him close. Shiro went stiff – frozen – his back to Keith’s chest. Keith got a hold of his hand again by feel and gripped it tight, interlaced their fingers, pressed his thumb into Shiro’s palm. “This, right?” he said. “It’s this.” He could feel that Shiro’s breathing had gone fast and shallow. It was weird how that didn’t matter. Keith  _knew_ it was this. “I’ve got you,” he said. “You’re right here. You can touch me. I’ve got you.”

Shiro stayed frozen a moment longer, and then his whole body went heavy and still against Keith’s, tension falling out of him like he’d had all his strings cut. He didn’t say anything. His breathing was still too fast. Keith pressed his arm back against Shiro’s chest, trying to be an anchor, trying to get them closer:  _I’m here._ He could feel Shiro working to slow his lungs down, one deep careful breath after another.

Before long he started to shake.

There was a time Keith wouldn’t have known what to do with Shiro falling apart in his arms. There was a time he couldn’t have  _imagined_ that Shiro was capable of falling apart. When he was younger Shiro had been the one sure thing in the universe, a safe place to land, solid as rock. But somewhere along the line – maybe starting the moment Keith had broken into a Garrison secured crash site and found a wounded prisoner strapped to a gurney – he’d become instead simply someone Keith loved, loved with everything he had.

“I’ve got you,” he said again. “Shiro. I’m here.”

Saying it just wasn’t  _enough_. Keith could feel it. He shifted to get some leverage, hauling Shiro along with him, and turned them so they were chest to chest. Now he could pull Shiro’s face into his neck, get a hand around the back of his neck to hold him there. Shiro didn’t fight the movement at all, just reached for Keith like he was starving for it and hung on. His shoulders moved a couple of times in huge shuddering soundless motions that Keith knew were silent sobs.

At last he went still, all his weight slumped into Keith – they’d ended up with Shiro kind of half on top of him. Keith didn’t know what to say anymore. The certainty of blind instinct had left him. He settled on saying nothing and focusing on the feeling of the shaved part of Shiro’s pale hair under his fingertips.

“You got strong,” Shiro murmured eventually, muffled because he was saying it to Keith’s neck.

“I always was,” Keith said. “It’s a Galra thing.”

Shiro laughed weakly, which Keith could feel everywhere they were touching and in the puff of Shiro’s breath against his throat. “I went all the way to the edge of the solar system looking for alien life,” he said.

Keith carefully kept stroking his hair. “Guess we should both have been paying more attention,” he said. “But things turned out all right.”

“Yeah,” said Shiro. “In the end. I guess they did.” He’d been more collapsed on Keith than actually holding him, but he shifted a bit in order to get an arm around him. “Keith. Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Keith started to say. 

But then Shiro pulled back just far enough that he was crouched over Keith instead of sprawled on him. Keith’s hand fell from his hair to his shoulder, just above the spot where flesh gave way to metal. Some time in the last few minutes Keith’s vision had faded back to its normal slightly-better-than-human, but for no reason at all Shiro’s face above his triggered it again and the colours of the night changed: violet depths to the shadows, scarlet edges to the black mass of the forest, and Shiro’s hair shining silver as it fell over his dark eyes under the ribboned starlight of the Amalusian night. Keith couldn’t breathe.

Shiro kissed him.

A heartbeat, two, three. Keith closed his eyes.

Shiro broke the kiss.

“Was that,” Keith said without daring to look, “was that – thank you?”

“What?” Shiro said. “No!” He was slightly too loud. Keith gripped his fingers warningly. The others were all still right  _there_. “No, that was – I just – that – I wanted to.”

Keith opened his eyes. Shiro was still hovering over him. He looked worried.

“Yeah?” said Keith.

That was all he needed to know. He let instinct take over for the rest, let it push him up and reach out to draw Shiro back to him in one easy movement, let it tell him how to turn his head and how to put his hand back into the soft prickles of Shiro’s undercut and fit their mouths together: like this, like this, like  _this._

“I,” said Shiro breathlessly afterwards, “that, I, yeah.”

“I didn’t know you were bad at this,” Keith said.

Shiro gave him a rueful little smile. “Keith, I’m  _terrible_ at this. I never know what I’m doing.”

“Okay,” said Keith. He thought about it. “Well, we should probably go to sleep.”

“Oh,” said Shiro. “Right. Okay.”

“The entire team is here,” Keith pointed out. “We’ve got at least four more vargas of enforced cuddling to go in order to get this stupid crystal whisker.”

Shiro blinked at him, then smiled again. “I knew you’d be good at this. I knew you’d be a good leader.”

“I kind of hate it,” said Keith.

“Tell you a secret?” Shiro said. They lay down again, and Shiro took Keith’s hand back in his and interlocked their fingers before he rolled sideways so he had his face pressed into Keith’s shoulder. “So did I.”

Keith didn’t exactly believe him. There were parts of what the leader of Voltron had to do that Shiro had been better at than Keith was ever going to be. There were parts of it that Shiro had loved, more than Keith ever would. But he was glad – more than glad – to be the guy stepping up now.

He held on tight to Shiro as Shiro held onto him, and fell back asleep fast and deep and easy.

 

“My goodness,” someone said. “Should we try to wake them?”

“I kind of don’t want to.” That was Hunk. “Look at them, they’re cute.”

“Well, the good news is,” – Pidge – “we’ve definitely got enough crystals. We honestly had enough with just what the Behemoth gave the whole team.”

“How come Keith gets special treatment?” Lance. “Seriously, why does the whole universe just  _love Keith?_ ”

“It’s possible that the Amalusian Behemoth is actually a big fan of Shiro, Lance!” – which was Coran, tinny, over the comm. “Lots of people are, you know. As a matter of fact he still gets by far the most autograph requests!”

Keith opened his eyes. Shiro was already awake, looking back at him through slitted lids, clearly trying not to smile. They were still in each other’s arms.

A forest of crystal filaments had erupted around them as they slept, diffusing the morning sunlight into rainbows in all directions.

“Guess the Behemoth approves of our bond?” Shiro said quietly. He grinned a little at Keith.

“It’s none of its business,” said Keith, but he couldn’t help smiling back. Nothing in the universe could stop him from wanting to smile back when Shiro smiled like that.

Then he sat up and frowned at the crystal bower all around them. He could just make out the rest of the team standing around peering at them through the gaps between the shining filaments. “How are we supposed to get out of this?”

“The crystal whiskers must be harvested with the greatest of care!” came Coran’s voice. “Offending the Behemoth  _or_ the Amalusians would be disastrous!”

“How long’s the harvest going to take?” asked Keith.

“Oh, at  _least_ three vargas!”

“We must pray as we go,” piped up a voice with a distinct sound of plants and smug, and oh great, the Amalusian high priest was here too. “Everyone needs to give thanks for this extraordinary blessing from the Behemoth!”

Keith sighed. “I guess we’ll just sit here till you’re done?”

“I can think of worse places,” Shiro said. He leaned easily against Keith’s side, and Keith put his arm up around him automatically. Shiro looked pleased. Keith without much thinking about it pressed his lips to his hair, where the rainbow lights were falling in ridiculous varicoloured shafts across the silver.

“Did Keith just –” Lance said somewhere outside the serried rows of crystal filaments, and everyone else said, “ _Shh!_ ” except for the high priest who said in tones of joyful vindication, “I  _knew_ the princess and the hero belonged together!” It paused. “Ah, but please refrain from fleshy mating rituals. We really do find them gross.”

Keith frowned, but then he realised Shiro was shaking with laughter against him, so he decided he didn’t care.

“Just do what you need to do,” he said. “We’ll be here.” He tightened his grip around Shiro. “We’re not going anywhere.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://emilyenrose.tumblr.com).


End file.
